


We Fade Like The Wind

by i_daemon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Drabble, Loss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:22:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9089320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_daemon/pseuds/i_daemon





	

He lost Mattsun on a Tuesday.  
The weather had been bleary and cold, not yet wet from the fattening clouds that were up above, and he was bundled up in his favorite wool jacket, a gray scarf to keep his neck from the chill of the wind.   
A normal day.

He’d missed the warming presence of his best friend at his side on the walk to the subway station, and then again on the ride to their school, nothing shined so brightly as Mattsun in the mornings, not even the sun.  
He sat down in his usual spot by the windows - you see, he liked to watch the clouds moving as the wind gusted through the schoolyard - waiting for Mattsun to arrive, late, and wholly apologetic to their homeroom teacher.  
But he never came. 

Hiro started to worry when his phone calls went straight to voicemail at lunch, the spot next to him on the rooftop of their school was cold and empty with no one there to keep it occupied.   
He felt the weight of the wind that day, not even his extra cream puffs tasted good, a sign, he thought.

He skipped practice that afternoon.  
What was the point of going when he was so riddled with inklings of worry and frustration.  
If Mattsun had slept his entire day away Hiro would be the very first to let him have an earful about it.

But, the mere thought settled heavily on his chest.  
He ran.  
From the subway station, past the market where Mattsun had first taken Hiro to taste his proclaimed ‘Otherworldly Cream Puffs’, past the park they sometimes met up in to share a smoke when life was stressful, and all the way to the fading blue door of Mattsun’s home.

His breath billowed up around his face as he hunched over to calm down.   
He was here. He was going to see Mattsun.  
He bent over to retrieve the spare key from beneath the potted plant that was beside the door and unlocked it with his stiff fingers, noting how still the air was in the entryway of his home, of the stillness of his very home.  
He dropped his bag at the door and didn’t even bother to toe off his shoes at the door, and instead chose to bound his way up to Mattsun's door.

'I bet he's just a lump in bed.'  
'He's going to get an earful from me for making me worry.'  
'I'm going to tell him I missed his bad fashion for once.'

Thoughts ran through Hiro's mind as he pushed open the door, quietly, in case his best friend was actually sleeping.  
But this was all wrong.  
Mattsun's bed and desk were in the same spots but the rumpled navy comforter that smelled like too much cologne and cigarette smoke was missing.   
The green bomber jacket that looked hideous with the standard yellow plaid pants of their school uniform was gone from the back of his desk chair, even the dream catcher that used to hang above his bed was missing.

This was all wrong.  
Hiro searched every inch of that familiar house and found not one trace of his friend.  
No note.  
No spare piece of clothing.  
No memento for anyone who would have stopped by to look for him.  
Nothing.

The weatherman predicted rain that Tuesday, icy and cold since winter was fast approaching but what he couldn’t have predicted was the pure, unadulterated absence that ripped through Hiro that day.  
He lost his best friend on a Tuesday.

The absence of Issei’s presence was something like a small implosion within himself; it was a crushing weight to not know what happened.  
Was it him?  
Had he done something to put off Issei so much that he would pick up and leave? Just like that?  
Did his family make him move? No one returned his phone calls anymore.

He careened into outer space without his support; a black hole formed in the shape of Matsukawa Issei and it stole everything that was precious to Hiro.  
His comfort, his security, his happiness, his breath, his sense of time.  
All of it was sacrificed to this all -consuming abscess in his chest and suddenly he hated Tuesdays.   
He hated the cold weather without that green bomber around to be shared.  
He hated smoking if it wasn’t shared with snarky comments.  
He hated sleeping.

Loss was like a black hole.


End file.
